


Samsara

by arienai



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arienai/pseuds/arienai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The River flows; two men meet for the last and first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Samsara

**Author's Note:**

> Another requested fic from LJ.

The intricate patterns of the lotus that unfurled to open his path were less intriguing to O'Brien than the first time he'd seen them. Yet he studied them nonetheless, reaching out to brush his thumb along the soft edges. His skin was white behind the petal, illuminated by the glittering stars above, and softly from within.

There was no hurry to move forward. There was a destination that awaited him, a fact he knew more in his heart than in his mind--had known since he first opened his eyes to the gentle currents of light that flowed along the surface of the Sun. But there was no time at which he had to reach it. For there was no time at all. It would make no difference if he arrived there a thousand years from now, or tomorrow.

In life, he had always enjoyed the act of unravelling a mystery, of uncovering a truth no one had known before him. Yet moreso, he had craved the joy of sharing these realizations with others. Ultimately, he thought with a smile bereft of all the bitterness he once might have held, that was what had decided his fate. It was no challenge for him to recognize that time as he had known it was determined by the world's revolution around its nearest star, and, standing in the center of that sphere, time would not pass. Surely there were deeper mysteries that lay within these hallowed grounds.

And so he strayed from the path set out so clearly before him, to his eyes alone. He wandered carelessly, further and further through the maze-like passages, his body weightless and tireless. No one moved to stop him. Never once was he barred entrance to another level, though there were some he feared to tread.

Of which this was the worst. Not because anyone had tried to harm him, nor threatened him. Indeed, few here even noticed him, so consumed were they with their own misery. Their tormented voices invaded his thoughts even now, and his contemplation of the sacred flower was ruined. He stepped hurriedly through the door the lotus had opened, and furled shut tightly behind him.

Here was no better than the room he had left behind. No, it was even darker, the wailing souls within hiding from what faint light had reached them. 

"Not again... please, please not again... I can't bear it again..." One sobbed, on her knees beside O'Brien, translucent eyes staring through his. He squeezed his shut, wishing he could dull his other senses, and strode past.

"It hurts so much. Why is this happening to me..? Oh God, it hurts!"

"Someone help me. Somebody, please. Does anyone remember me?"

"I don't want to die again! It's so cold..."

O'Brien would have walked right past the other man, if tears had choked his voice the same way they did the others. It would have been too unfamiliar, too foreign, too unthinkable to hear such grief from him. As it was, he almost did, barely recognizing the words so thick were they with regret, stopping abruptly a few paces beyond.

"This wasn't what I wanted..."

He almost kept going. His hands tightened reflexively into fists. "Then you should have _considered_ that. Just once. Maybe."

The figure curled in the shadows behind him shifted, leaning forward toward the light. "...Heat?" He called, hesitant, tone frail with exhaustion and sudden hope.

O'Brien squared his shoulders and nodded, steeling himself to move on. He had nothing more to say to this man. Surely there were better things awaiting him. Surely he deserved whatever he suffered now. He swore to himself that he would not be swayed by his pleas and excuses--all his pretty words held no more weight here than the breeze.

"I can't see you. It's too dark." The other man's voice nearly broke; he swallowed to conceal the terror those were laden with. But O'Brien knew him too well to be fooled. 

He set his jaw. "I won't-"

"You don't owe me anything." The man behind him shifted back, away from the lighted path. "Go."

If they had been any other words... O'Brien heaved a sigh, and slowly turned to face the man who'd killed him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, O'Brien knew that it should have been more difficult to see into the darkness from the light than the light the darkness, but no shadows in the world would have been cast deep enough to hide the other man's shame. 

He knew Sheffield's face as intimately as his own, marred by the same tears that marked his voice, but his body was twisted beyond recognition. His fingers gave way to claws, scaled limbs bent backwards like an animal's, grey where they weren't covered by the blood-soaked tatters of his lab coat.

Cracked ridges of bone protruded from his chest, and on his hunched back O'Brien could see a gaping exit wound larger than his fist. They had taken no chances. 

O'Brien stopped at the edge of the light, head bowed. "It's not so dark." He offered. It was the most charitable thing that came to mind. The other words--that finally his outer self reflected his true nature within--died in his throat at the pathetic sight huddled before him, his old friend twisting in agony.

Sheffield nodded, eyes downcast, and the silence between them stretched for ages, drowning resentment and washing away anger. At length the other man moved, crawling forward once more, until the gentle glow from without framed his battered silhouette.

O'Brien cocked his head to the side, curious. "What are you...?"

"I want to follow you." 

"That's all you need." Stifling the last traces of doubt, he offered his hand to his old friend, within reach of where he knelt. "Come on."

Sheffield raised a trembling arm, the one still human, meeting his gaze at last. He groaned softly with the effort, and the tips of his fingers moved no further than the grey dimness at the light's limit. Push as he might, until blood seeped from his shoulder, until his strength gave out and he collapsed at his friend's feet, he could come no closer than a few inches from the outstretched hand. He did not bother to wipe away the tears of frustration, shaking his head disconsolately. "I can't go where you are."

Stillness settled within him, like the moment before dawn, and O'Brien glanced one last time over his shoulder at the glory of the Sun and all the secrets held within.

He passed into the twilight and took the other man's hand.

"Then I'll just have to show you the way."

Sheffield's mouth worked slowly; he tried to pull away, but O'Brien held him fast, arms under his shoulders as he hauled the lighter man to his feet. He silenced protest with a careless shrug. "I can always come back."

The way behind them was now closed--he knew this as surely as he'd known his destination. And so he started off into the blackness, hand clenched firmly around Sheffield's, treading as surely as he dared into the unknown. 

Sheffield's voice was quiet behind him, but it no longer shook. "How will I know where to go?"

O'Brien chuckled, and he grinned back at his old friend. "You'll have to trust me." Then, with more gravity, he added. "Follow me, no matter how hard it gets. And keep up."

The other man nodded gravely, saying nothing, pale eyes shining with faith in the dimness. 

Together they walked, for time unknowable, through the dimness, the sounds of their footsteps muffled by its weight. It pressed in on them, making his eyelids heavy, and his legs leaden. Once more, he paused to look back at the other man when he could no longer feel his unnatural fingers biting into his palm. For a moment there was panic, dread that he might have lost him in the gloom. Yet he was there, resolutely clinging to his guide with a child's hand, staring up from a young boy's face.

O'Brien squeezed it firmly, and continued. The darkness was stripping away the traces of time, the burden of their sins and their memories, until even their names were lost to it. There was only one thought, one purpose, that he held to and refused to let slip away. He forgot that he was guiding, that he was walking, that he _was_. 

He knew only that he would lead the man who gazed at him with those trusting eyes back to the light.

The ceaseless currents of the river of Samsara pulled them under, cleansing them in its black waters and lulling them to the sleep of all newborns before the first breath is drawn. Dreamless, eternal comfort.

Until they awoke together, to the sound of endless rain.


End file.
